Before you read

There are some dates or periods of time in the history

of the world that are so significant that everyone

knows and remembers them. The story you will read

mentions one such date and event: a war between

the British and the Germans in 1914. Can you guess

which war it was?

Do you know which events the dates below refer to?

(a) 4 July 1776 (b) 17 December 1903

(e) 12 April 1961 (f) 20 July 1969

The answers are on page 23.

I spotted it in a junk shop in Bridport, a roll-top desk.

The man said it was early nineteenth century, and oak.

I had wanted one, but they were far too expensive. This

one was in a bad condition, the roll-top in several pieces,

one leg clumsily mended, scorch marks all down one

side. It was going for very little money. I thought I could

restore it. It would be a risk, a challenge, but I had to

have it. I paid the man and brought it back to my

workroom at the back of the garage. I began work on it

on Christmas Eve.

I removed the roll-top completely and pulled out the

drawers. The veneer had lifted almost everywhere — it

spotted it:

saw it; found it

(informal)

scorch marks:

burn marks

was going for:

was selling for

(informal)

restore:

(here) repair

veneer:

a thin layer of

plastic or

decorative

wood on

furniture of

cheap wood

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looked like water damage to me. Both fire and water had

clearly taken their toll on this desk. The last drawer was

stuck fast. I tried all I could to ease it out gently. In the

end I used brute force. I struck it sharply with the side of

my fist and the drawer flew open to reveal a shallow space

underneath, a secret drawer. There was something in

there. I reached in and took out a small black tin box.

Sello-taped to the top of it was a piece of lined notepaper,

and written on it in shaky

handwriting: “Jim’s

last letter, received

January 25, 1915.

To be buried with

me when the

time comes.” I

knew as I did

it that it was

wrong of me to

open the box,

but curiosity

got the better of

my scruples. It

usually does.

Inside the box there was an envelope. The address

read: “Mrs Jim Macpherson, 12 Copper Beeches, Bridport,

Dorset.” I took out the letter and unfolded it. It was written

in pencil and dated at the top — “December 26, 1914”.

Comprehension Check

1. What did the author find in a junk shop?

2. What did he find in a secret drawer? Who do you think had

put it in there?

Dearest Connie,

I write to you in a much happier frame of mind because

something wonderful has just happened that I must tell

taken their

toll on:

damaged

stuck fast:

shut tight

scruples:

feelings that

make you

hesitate to do

something

wrong

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The Best Christmas Present in the World

you about at once. We were all standing to in our trenches

yesterday morning, Christmas morning. It was crisp and

quiet all about, as beautiful a morning as I’ve ever seen, as

cold and frosty as a Christmas morning should be.

I should like to be able to tell you that we began it.

But the truth, I’m ashamed to say, is that Fritz began it.

First someone saw a white flag waving from the trenches

opposite. Then they were calling out to us from across

no man’s land, “Happy Christmas, Tommy! Happy

Christmas!” When we had got over the surprise, some of

us shouted back, “Same to you, Fritz! Same to you!” I

thought that would be that. We all did. But then suddenly

one of them was up there in his grey greatcoat and waving

a white flag. “Don’t shoot, lads!” someone shouted. And

no one did. Then there was another Fritz up on the

parapet, and another. “Keep your heads down,” I told the

men, “it’s a trick.” But it wasn’t.

One of the Germans was waving a bottle above his

head. “It is Christmas Day, Tommy. We have schnapps.

We have sausage. We meet you? Yes?” By this time there

were dozens of them walking towards us across no man’s

land and not a rifle between them. Little Private Morris

was the first up. “Come on, boys. What are we waiting

for?” And then there was no stopping them. I was the

officer. I should have stopped them there and then, I

suppose, but the truth is that it never even occurred to

me I should. All along their line and ours I could see

men walking slowly towards one another, grey coats,

khaki coats meeting in the middle. And I was one of

them. I was part of this. In the middle of the war we

were making peace.

You cannot imagine, dearest Connie, my feelings as

I looked into the eyes of the Fritz officer, who approached

me, hand outstretched. “Hans Wolf,” he said, gripping

my hand warmly and holding it. “I am from Dusseldorf.

I play the cello in the orchestra. Happy Christmas.”

standing to:

taking up

positions

trenches:

long deep

ditches in the

ground where

soldiers hide

from the

enemy

Fritz:

(here), a name

for a German

soldier (Fritz is

a common

German name)

Tommy:

a common

English name,

used here to

refer to British

soldiers

that would be

that:

that was all;

that was the

end of the

matter

schnapps

(pronounced,

sh-naps):

a German

drink made

from grain

cello:

a musical

instrument

like a large

violin

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“Captain Jim Macpherson,” I replied. “And a Happy

Christmas to you too. I’m a school teacher from Dorset,

in the west of England.”

“Ah, Dorset,” he smiled. “I know this place. I know it

very well.” We shared my rum ration and his excellent

sausage. And we talked, Connie, how we talked. He spoke

almost perfect English. But it turned out that he had

never set foot in Dorset, never even been to England.

He had learned all he knew of England from school,

and from reading books in English. His favourite writer

was Thomas Hardy, his favourite book Far from the

Madding Crowd. So out there in no man’s land we talked

of Bathsheba and Gabriel Oak and Sergeant Troy and

Dorset. He had a wife and one son, born just six months

ago. As I looked about me there were huddles of khaki

and grey everywhere, all over no man’s land, smoking,

laughing, talking, drinking, eating. Hans Wolf and I

shared what was left of your wonderful Christmas cake,

Connie. He thought the marzipan was the best he had

ever tasted. I agreed. We agreed about everything, and

he was my enemy. There never was a Christmas party

like it, Connie.

Then someone, I don’t know who, brought out a

football. Greatcoats were dumped in piles to make

goalposts, and the next thing we knew it was Tommy

against Fritz out in the middle of no man’s land. Hans

Wolf and I looked on and cheered, clapping our hands

and stamping our feet, to keep out the cold as much as

anything. There was a moment when I noticed our

breaths mingling in the air between us. He saw it too

and smiled. “Jim Macpherson,” he said after a while,

“I think this is how we should resolve this war. A football

match. No one dies in a football match. No children are

orphaned. No wives become widows.”

“I’d prefer cricket,” I told him. “Then we Tommies

could be sure of winning, probably.” We laughed at

that, and together we watched the game. Sad to say,

marzipan:

a sweet

covering on a

cake made

from sugar,

eggs and

almonds

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The Best Christmas Present in the World

Connie, Fritz won, two goals to one. But as Hans Wolf

generously said, our goal was wider than theirs, so it

wasn’t quite fair.

The time came, and all too soon, when the game was

finished, the schnapps and the rum and the sausage

had long since run out, and we knew it was all over.

I wished Hans well and told him I hoped he would see

his family again soon, that the fighting would end and

we could all go home.

“I think that is what every soldier wants, on both

sides,” Hans Wolf said. “Take care, Jim Macpherson.

I shall never forget this moment, nor you.” He saluted

and walked away from me slowly, unwillingly, I felt.

He turned to wave just once and then became one of

the hundreds of grey-coated men drifting back towards

their trenches.

That night, back in our dugouts, we heard them

singing a carol, and singing it quite beautifully. It was

Stille Nacht, Silent Night. Our boys gave them a rousing

chorus of While Shepherds Watched. We exchanged

carols for a while and then we all fell silent. We had had

our time of peace and goodwill, a time I will treasure as

long as I live.

dugout:

a shelter for

soldiers made

by digging a

hole in the

ground and

covering it

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Dearest Connie, by Christmas time next year, this

war will be nothing but a distant and terrible memory.

I know from all that happened today how much both

armies long for peace. We shall be together again soon,

I’m sure of it.

Your loving, Jim.

Comprehension Check

1. Who had written the letter, to whom, and when?

2. Why was the letter written — what was the wonderful thing

that had happened?

3. What jobs did Hans Wolf and Jim Macpherson have when

they were not soldiers?

4. Had Hans Wolf ever been to Dorset? Why did he say he knew it?

5. Do you think Jim Macpherson came back from the war? How

do you know this?

III

I folded the letter again and slipped it carefully back

into its envelope. I kept awake all night. By morning I

knew what I had to do. I drove into Bridport, just a few

miles away. I asked a boy walking his dog where Copper

Beeches was. House number 12 turned out to be nothing

but a burned-out shell, the roof gaping, the windows

boarded-up. I knocked at the house next door and asked

if anyone knew the whereabouts of a Mrs Macpherson.

Oh yes, said the old man in his slippers, he knew her

well. A lovely old lady, he told me, a bit muddle-headed,

but at her age she was entitled to be, wasn’t she? A

hundred and one years old. She had been in the house

when it caught fire. No one really knew how the fire had

started, but it could well have been candles. She used

candles rather than electricity, because she always

thought electricity was too expensive. The fireman had

got her out just in time. She was in a nursing home

now, he told me, Burlington House, on the Dorchester

road, on the other side of town.

burned out:

destroyed by

fire

boarded-up:

covered with

wooden

boards

muddle-

headed:

confused

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The Best Christmas Present in the World

Comprehension Check

1. Why did the author go to Bridport?

2. How old was Mrs Macpherson now? Where was she?

I found Burlington House Nursing Home easily enough.

There were paper chains up in the hallway and a lighted

Christmas tree stood in the corner with a lopsided angel

on top. I said I was a friend come to visit Mrs Macpherson

to bring her a Christmas present. I could see through

into the dining room where everyone was wearing a paper

hat and singing. The matron had a hat on too and

seemed happy enough to see me. She even offered me a

mince pie. She walked me along the corridor.

“Mrs Macpherson is not in with the others,” she told

me. “She’s rather confused today so we thought it best

if she had a good rest. She has no family you know, no

one visits. So I’m sure she’ll be only too pleased to see

you.” She took me into a conservatory with wicker chairs

and potted plants all around and left me.

The old lady was sitting in a wheelchair, her hands

folded in her lap. She had silver white hair pinned into a

wispy bun. She was gazing out at

the garden. “Hello,” I said. She

turned and looked up at me

vacantly. “Happy Christmas,

Connie,” I went on. “I found

this. I think it’s yours.” As I was

speaking her eyes never left my

face. I opened the tin box and

gave it to her. That was the

moment her eyes lit up with

recognition and her face

became suffused with a sudden

glow of happiness. I explained

about the desk, about how I

had found it, but I don't think

she was listening. For a while

lit up:

became bright

with happi-

ness, excite-

ment

suffused with:

(glow of

happiness)

spread all over

her face

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she said nothing, but stroked the letter tenderly with her

fingertips.

Suddenly she reached out and took my hand. Her

eyes were filled with tears. “You told me you’d come home

by Christmas, dearest,” she said. “And here you are,

the best Christmas present in the world. Come closer,

Jim dear, sit down.”

I sat down beside her, and she kissed my cheek. “I

read your letter so often Jim, every day. I wanted to

hear your voice in my head. It always made me feel you

were with me. And now you are. Now you’re back you

can read it to me yourself. Would you do that for me,

Jim dear? I just want to hear your voice again. I’d love

that so much. And then perhaps we’ll have some tea.

I’ve made you a nice Christmas cake, marzipan all

around. I know how much you love marzipan.”

MICHAEL MORPURGO

Comprehension Check

1. Who did Connie Macpherson think her visitor was?

2. Which sentence in the text shows that the visitor did not try

to hide his identity?

1. For how long do you think Connie had kept Jim’s letter? Give reasons for

your answer.

2. Why do you think the desk had been sold, and when?

3. Why do Jim and Hans think that games or sports are good ways of resolving

conflicts? Do you agree?

4. Do you think the soldiers of the two armies are like each other, or different

from each other? Find evidence from the story to support your answer.

5. Mention the various ways in which the British and the German soldiers

become friends and find things in common at Christmas.

6. What is Connie’s Christmas present? Why is it “the best Christmas present

in the world”?

7. Do you think the title of this story is suitable for it? Can you think of any

other title(s)?

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